


Teach me how to play?

by aheartmadefullmetal16



Series: Send me a pairing and a number and I'll write you a drabble [1]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: F/M, Gen, Pre-Canon, Young!Royai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-08
Updated: 2016-09-08
Packaged: 2018-08-13 19:43:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7983826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aheartmadefullmetal16/pseuds/aheartmadefullmetal16
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In response to an anon prompt on Tumblr. Roy is new to the Hawkeye residence, and there's more than one thing surprising him. J/10.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Teach me how to play?

Roy jolted awake hurriedly, noticing too late that his face was stuck to the page of a book which was serving as his pillow.  _ Riiiiip! _ To his despair the page came tearing up, not willing to part with his skin. He groaned and plucked it from his unfortunately drooling mouth.  _ Groooooss,  _ he thought, wiping it impatiently. 

As he futilely attempted to make the page fit back in the book, he noticed a sweet and somber sound coming from down the hallway. The soothing chords of the rickety old piano Master Hawkeye owned floated into Roy’s ears, enticing him to investigate.  _ It’s definitely not Master Hawkeye playing,  _ Roy deduced. The old man was much too stiff and unlikable to be capable of creating such a calming melody.  _ Could it be Miss Hawkeye then? _ he wondered. Roy had only been there two months, and he concluded that he had had about as many detailed conversations with his teacher’s daughter. It’s not that he wasn’t friendly; he was always mindful of his manners and kept track of himself as to not get in her way. Now, however, he was determined to do just the opposite.

Abandoning his alchemy homework he walked quietly out of the study and down the hall. The light of the day was fading through the windows, the sun almost gone behind the horizon. The sky was streaked with a pinkish-purple color that faded to blue and threw the house into shadow. As run down as the outside of the house looked, the inside was moderately well kept; not a single board squeaked as he approached the sitting room where the piano was housed. Beginning to tiptoe out of sheer anticipation, he peered through the doorway. Sure enough, Miss Hawkeye was seated there on the piano bench, her fingers lightly plucking each key with precision and ease. The tune was both lovely and painful, deep bass notes accompanying higher tones in groups of three. Roy didn’t recognize the melody, but stood there completely still, closing his eyes.  _ She hasn’t made one single mistake, _ Roy noted.  _ She’s probably been playing for years. She’s really good.  _ As he thought, the final chord faded away into nothingness, and silence fell upon his ears.

A sharp gasp jerked Roy out of his thoughts. “What are you doing?” Miss Hawkeye demanded, startled.

Eyes flying open, Roy replied hurriedly, “I’m sorry, I just heard someone playing and thought I should check it out.” He paused. “You’re really good. I thought you were Master Hawkeye at first, but then I figured that he probably couldn’t make anything sound that good.” As the words left his mouth he immediately regretted them. He still couldn’t exactly gauge what Miss Hawkeye’s feelings towards her father were, and it was very possible that she would tell Master Hawkeye exactly what Roy thought of him.

To his relief and surprise, Miss Hawkeye laughed quietly, her cheeks turning red. A whoosh of breath expelled itself from Roy’s chest and he thought, _Oh good, she’s not angry._ _I wonder what Teacher would do to me if he heard me say that._ The very thought made him shudder. When it came to punishments, Master Hawkeye got very… _creative_. Last week Roy had spent the better part of four days dusting every page of every book in Teacher’s study with only a toothbrush. He would still get sneezing attacks every now and again.

“Shouldn’t you be doing your alchemy homework?” Miss Hawkeye quipped, bringing Roy out of his thoughts. She had turned around completely on the bench now, and closed the lid of the piano behind her. The window to her left revealed that the sun had completely descended beyond the horizon, and the moon was beginning to shine.

“Um, I guess,” Roy replied reluctantly. He was still a little surprised that she was making the attempt to speak with him. The two year age gap between them certainly didn’t help, and the last thing he wanted to do was to intimidate her. “Where did you learn to play like that? It was amazing.”

Miss Hawkeye’s cheeks turned red once again, and she looked away. “My mother taught me before she… passed away,” she explained, her voice getting quieter with every word.

_ Way to go, Roy, now you’ve done it, _ he thought, utterly exasperated with himself. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. He hadn’t meant to make her sad.  _ This is going even more terribly than I originally thought. _

At his words, a peculiar look had crossed her face. “Why are you sorry? You couldn’t have done anything.” Despite her words, her demeanor was kind and reassuring. She didn’t seem to be as upset as Roy had thought, and he sighed inwardly in relief.

A stretch of awkward silence permeated the air between them for a while, neither of them willing to meet the other’s eyes. A question leapt to the tip of Roy’s tongue, and he blurted it out before he could contain it. “Do you think you could teach me how to play?” He held his breath, terrified for a moment.  _ Calm down, the worst thing she can do is say no, _ he rationalized. Still, the notion of Miss Hawkeye rejecting him in any form made him nervous. This was the one of the three real conversations he’d had with her, and goodness knows he wasn’t going to let this opportunity to get to know her better slip away.

Miss Hawkeye blinked in surprise, suddenly a little wary. “Why do you want to learn? Aren’t you too busy with everything Father is teaching you?”

“Well, yes, but I can’t devote  _ all _ my time to alchemy, can I?” Roy replied, smiling. “Besides, it would probably give me something else to focus on rather than not burning my eyes out with some failed transmutation.”

There it was again, that soft laugh of hers. A thrill of happiness shot up from his feet to the top of his head. Stretching her limbs she stood up, walking to him. “All right. I’ll teach you. But tomorrow, okay? I have to get dinner started.” Roy nodded eagerly as she passed him.

“I can help you, if you want,” Roy called to her retreating back. Maybe he could get to know her a little better.

“Mr. Mustang, can you cook?” Miss Hawkeye asked, a hint of amusement behind her voice.

“...No.”

“I appreciate the offer, but I would rather have you keep all your fingers. You kind of need them for your work with Father.”

Roy’s cheeks burned sheepishly.  _ Quit being so insufferably eager. You look like an idiot. _ “You’re right.” A pause. Then, “Maybe you could teach me that, too?”

Miss Hawkeye laughed once more, pausing at the kitchen door down the hall to look back at him. The kitchen light glowed onto her face, tossing her features halfway into shadow as she smiled. “We’ll see.”

As she turned away and walked into the kitchen, a goofy smile involuntarily stretched across Roy’s face before he snapped it away.  _ Oh boy, you’ve got it bad. _

  
  



End file.
